Speechless
by Grace of the Feathered Pen
Summary: Sometimes I wonder how my life came to this: flying around in an airship, meeting strangers, witnessing magical marvels, helping people across the nation, falling in love. However, I am being hunted down by the very people responsible for over a million cases of justified murder, and marrying an abrasive, cold man who doesn't even like me. The thing is, I wouldn't change anything.
1. Hit and Run

_**Speechless**_

_I can't believe what you said to me_

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><p><strong>The 29th of Aziza 0038<strong>

"Give me another." The woman behind the counter scurries off at my command and brings me another pint of ale. The cold wet mug is placed before me, effectively cooling off the heated marble. A bead of sweat trails down the side before it is cut off with my own sweaty hand. I lift the alcohol off the smooth surface before raising it to my lips. I take a few strong swallows before I set the mug back on the counter, wiping the residue off my lips. The liquid slides effortlessly down my throat, my body greedily accepting the cold wetness of it's favorite alcohol. This is only my second pint and I'm not planning for it to be my last one either. "So, what brings you to Hilgae?"

I glance up at the bartender as she speaks to me. She is a beautiful woman, but I didn't come here to flirt. She has cherry red locks coiled around each other hanging over her shoulder, and ending at her bosom. Big doe eyes stare at me innocently, even though I know she has seen her fair share of history. She has an angelic face with the softest looking porcelain skin stretched tight over her lean body. She wears a simple yellow tank top, and a black skirt, which I assume is short, but I can't see anything else as the rest of her is hidden behind the bar.

"I have my reasons. What's it to ya?" I mumble grumpily, sounding like an old man when in actuality I am only twenty-three. The look on her face changes from cheerful to annoyed, but it all looks cute to me. "Oh, come now. Don't make a face like that. I'm just sayin' I don't know you. You don't expect me ta spill my life story an' then some jus' 'cause you bat your eyelashes an' give me a pretty smile, do ya?" My voice is rough and gravelly even to me, but I note that her's spills like honey.

"I'm a bartender, it's my job to be nosy." She giggles, back to her regular kindred spirits. A quick grin is thrown my way, and I take another chug of the icy liquid. The rest of the bar is packed and people chat noisily to one another over their own alcoholic beverages, some are all over each other like they are best friends who haven't seen each other in years, and then there are the men dragging women into the back rooms. I focus back on the woman in front of me, and a couple of thoughts stand out more than others. Swallowing my pride and ale, I decide to open up to this barmaid.

"To forget, passing through, for a drink, for intel. Sound like the normal excuses to visit a bar to you?" Her features lighten a little more; the scowling that occupied her face moments ago is now only a fragment of a whisper. She lets another giggle loose as she takes a clean rag out from behind the counter and begins cleaning off the surface where the last drunk man sat.

"No need to worry, you are a completely average man. A real average Joe." She teases me, and I'm not offended. I am about to respond when the sound of retching occurs behind me, and I see a man doubled over spilling his stomach contents on the floor. I turn back to the woman, and see she is staring at the man in disgust. Lips pursed she sits there for a minute before she calls over someone else to clean it. "Anyway," she begins again, "where were we?"

"You were prying into my life." I tease back, and I begin to wonder if I'm flirting. Maybe if I'm lucky I can get some information and have her in bed tonight. I mean, I'm pretty good looking and if play my cards right she might be the one to come onto me. She switches back into her playful mode again and she looks at me with her large innocent eyes, giving me her full undivided-attention.

"Ah, right. How could I forget?" She bats her eyelashes slowly; a dainty smile plays on her lips. Her long graceful fingers curl onto the surface of the table as she leans forward, giving me a small view of her cleavage. "I was being nosy. So, can I guess what you're here for Joe?"

"Cid." I correct, flashing her an award-winning smile, which she responds with one of her own.

"Dara. Now that is one special name, Average Cid." She is smirking now, but continues on before I can comment. "Now you look fairly young, but my guess is you found the love of your life, but she doesn't love you back, so you are traveling the world to find her and stop at every bar for a drink and to see if anyone has seen her?"

"Well that is quite a story, but not what I'm dealing with." She gives a huff of disappointment at being wrong, but gets over it fairly quickly.

"You have no idea how many times I have heard a story similar to the one I just told you."

"No, I guess I don't." She chuckles before lifting her head to meet my eyes again. Her eyes tell me _so what is it?_ And I feel compelled to tell her, whether it's the alcohol, the longing for a companion, or my misery talking. "My parents were Purged, and I survived. I don't stay in one town for long, for many reasons. If I stay in one town, then that means commitment, and I am not ready to commit to anything yet. If I stay in one spot for too long then there is a big chance I can get Purged, too; this time not surviving. Also, I am on the hunt. I am looking for my siblings, so I wanted to know if you have seen anyone that looks fairly like me."

Dara tries to read my face for a second before realizing that I am not going to be giving much away via facial expressions. She sighs before tuning in to her flirtatious side again. Batting her eyelashes, she says, "Wow, I can't imagine the trouble. You are such a good brother. Do you know any of their names?" I shake my head no before answering verbally as well.

"No. I know nothing about them."

"Then how do you know they exist?" Confusion is present on her cherubic face. There is always confusion.

"My parents said."

"How'd you guys get separated if you were with your birth parents?"

"I was adopted." From pink lips a sound of recognition was drawn out and breathy before she takes my now empty glass from in front of me. I didn't even realize I finished it. To my left a bar fight breaks out and Dara looks pissed, which is actually very scary and somewhat cute. Another bartender breaks it up before she turns back face me. Another smile in place as she cleans off my mug. "Are you bipolar?" I instantly shut my mouth and slap myself mentally. That did not mean to slip out. She looks at me in confusion before laughing loud.

"No, no. Nothing like that. Listen, can you come back inside in about, say... ten minutes?" I shrug my shoulders before getting off my stool and walking towards the entrance. Stepping outside, a blast of hot air hits my face and I can already feel the sweat forming on my brow. Taking my hand I drag it across my forehead and onto the side of my head. I pull my wavy chin-length blonde hair into a short pony behind my head before tying it off. I reach a large hand into the right leg pocket of my baggy brown pants before finding a cigar. Looking around, I spot a torch not too far away. Moving close enough, I reach the end of the stick into the golden fire before placing the other end between my lips. I sit down on the left side of the bar and stare off into the distance.

Hilgae is a little run-down, but overall fairly nice. The buildings are small and wooden, the streets are just sand, and the grass appears to be dying. But the people are nice and jovial, and the sunsets are beautiful. Hilgae is small and at a fair distance from the next town, so when I look to my left, I can see the sun setting perfectly. I don't feel like I am out here for long, but soon enough Dara is standing in front of me, posture tense and irritated, annoyance clear on her face.

"I told you ten minutes. It's not chivalrous to keep a lady waiting." I grunt before pulling myself up onto my feet, and smashing my cigar onto the floor beneath me.

"Lady, I am no knight-in-shining-armor." I respond before gesturing for her to lead the way. She steps ahead of me, and starts walking with a feminine sway of her hips. Her skirt ends mid thigh, and she is wearing black military boots on her feet. The swaying of her hips attracts my attention to her ass, and I can not look away.

"Done staring at my butt, Average Cid?" She states easily as if she is used to being ogled at. Then I realize she is, and she is doing this walk to turn me on. She is purposefully swaying her hips to attract my eyes and not look away. I growl in annoyance before I shove my hands in my pockets and walk on her left side so I am not distracted again.

"Where are we going, Dara?" She looks to her left at my face before sharply turning to her right down an alleyway. I run a hand across my stubbly chin, considering if I should keep following or not, and deciding that it wouldn't hurt. I pick up my pace to meet her gait just as she stops in front of a gate. She pushes through the heavy iron door, and I slip through behind her. We reach a dead end before she turns to look behind us, searching all around us. "What the fuck is this, Dara?" She flinches at my angry tone before raising a finger to her lips, shushing me.

"We can talk here." I am about to question what she means before she shakes her head. I am about to talk anyway when she beats me to the punch. "Not too long ago a woman was here. She wasn't asking for a drink, but more for business. Listen, Cid. I don't know why, but I don't want you to get hurt. Do not go looking in bars for relatives anymore, it's not safe. The Seekers of Darkness are looking for people like you. They are trying to find many people. They have a list, and no one but them knows who is on that list. If you are on that list, they want you dead, imprisoned, or on their side. You need to trust me.

The Oracles can see it; they can see anything they want. If they get your DNA they can find you. If they know you first and last name they can find you. If they can find you, they will know everything about you, and everything before you. They can see the past, the present, the future. This is an awful time to be alive, I am sure you of all people would know, considering you survived a Purge. Do not trust anyone. If you want to cut your hair, burn it afterwards. If your clothes have a bloodstain, and you need to get rid of it, burn it. Burn all the evidence. Do not get sloppy. Do not trust. Do not forget. I suggest you forget about your siblings and take care of yourself."

I stare at her, considering her words before giving a slow nod of my head. Thousands of thoughts race through my mind, but the loudest one makes the biggest impression. _Can I forget my siblings? _Should _I forget my siblings? _Her words ring through my mind, tearing at every thought I had previously. _Do not get sloppy. Do not trust. Do not forget._ If I shouldn't forget, then why is she asking me to forget my search? My motivation of visiting every bar in town. Just as I am about to question her again, she raises up to meet my lips in a passionate kiss. She kisses me with fervor and ferocity that I have encountered in only a handful of women in my adventures. She brings her hands up to caress my stubbly cheek and slide through my hair.

She coaxes me to kiss back, and I respond almost instantly, sliding my tongue on her bottom lip, seeking entrance. She opens her mouth and we kiss each other deeper. The hand digging through my hair releases it from its prison and falls back into its chin-length waves. I look at her face to see that her eyes are closed, so I slide mine closed, too. I bring my hand to her shoulders, and run them down to her hips, squeezing tightly before slipping my hands under her tight golden shirt. Her soft heated skin feels good against my calloused appendages, and I begin to slowly drag my hands back up, lifting the shirt as I go. We break the kiss and she lifts her arms so I can pull the constricting piece of fabric off all the way.

I launch myself at her neck, biting and sucking softly, pleased and aroused by the moans I cause from the redhead. She tugs tightly on my hair in want making me groan in pleasure. I finish on her neck staring at her as she stares at me with half-lidded eyes. I unhook her bra in the back and slide it off her body, staring at her with my cold blue eyes. My coarse hands fondle her breasts, squeezing the tissue and run my thumbs over the nipples. I lean down and suck on one while continuing to tease the other with my rough fingers. My tongue plays with the pink nub, and every so often I graze my teeth against the colored flesh. I hear her needy moans as she begs for more softly like a cat in heat. I let go of the used breast and move on to the one next to it, giving it the same treatment as the last.

Once I am done, and stand up again, she pulls roughly at my tight t-shirt like a small child trying to get their mothers attention, and I chuckle before lifting the blue thing off for her. She runs her dainty, smooth fingers over the surface of my skin, gliding over the crevices of my abs. Her eyes rake greedily over my chest, like I am the best looking thing she has seen in a while. I push her small black skirt off of her hips and watch in amusement when it falls to the ground. She leans down to untie her boots and take them off, while I do the same with mine. Her panties are a little moist I can see, and I chuckle again.

"A little excited, I see." She huffs in annoyance before grabbing my erection in her hand, working the bulge in her palm back and forth. I groan in arousal, bucking my hips forward in anticipation of what is to come.

"A little excited, I see." She mocks before standing on her toes and kissing me full force again. I grab her hips again hard, holding her in place so she doesn't full-out tackle me to the ground. I push my pelvis forward so both of our sexes are pressed against each other, and cherish the moan that parts from her swollen lips, and into mine. My hands slide down to her underwear-clad ass, pinching and squeezing tightly as she whines accidentally. The doe eyed women's hands, which had been running through my hair again, descended down my body, before pulling my pants down. She raises her eyebrows at my decision not to wear boxers, but I only shrug my shoulders.

Dara gets down on her knees, holding the base of my appendage tightly before bringing her mouth close enough to it that her hot breath ghosts over me, making it twitch in arousal. Painfully slow, she drags her tongue on the underside, along a big vein before taking the tip into her mouth. She takes me in slowly, to make sure she does not make herself gag, and I have to restrain myself from bucking my hips into the warm, moist cavern. About halfway down I figure she is going to stop, but she keeps going until she is deep throating me, nose buried in pubic hairs. I moan loudly at the pleasant feeling before she draws back. Her head begins to bob back and forth, faster and faster until the moans departing from my lips are a continuous melody of pleasure. She begins to fondle my balls, which only increases the pleasure for me more. It is getting harder for me to hold myself back, and I feel some of my seed leak out of my dick already. I tug on her flame colored hair, but she does not stop, in fact she increases her pace until I come with a shout.

I am panting now, and when I look down at her and she looks up at me, and we make eye contact, she swallows and licks her lips. I nervously chuckle and gulp before she stands back up and jumps at me. I catch her in my arms like she expected I would, and kisses me harder than the previous two times. Her dainty, but strong legs wrap around my midsection, while her arms wrap around my neck. She thrusts her pelvis against mine, rubbing my hardening cock against her damp panties. I moan into her sweet mouth, and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue in. I can taste myself in her mouth and it's never been hotter. I am back to dealing with a full erection as she continues to kiss and thrust against me.

I let go of her, but her hold on me is strong enough so she won't fall. I begin to slide the remaining piece of clothing on her down her slim body. She gets the hint and disentangles her limbs from my body. Her feet touch the ground and she shivers. I lick at her neck in the same spot as before and watch as she shudders again. She gracefully steps out of the clothing and begins to wrap her legs around my waist again. I back her against the wall of the alley we stand in, and hold her in position before I place myself at her entrance. Suddenly, I ram my hips against hers effortlessly, and pull back, only to slam in again. I continue these motions, back and forth, harder and faster into her smooth walls. I can tell already that she isn't a virgin, even though I already had my assumptions.

She is moaning the whole times, begging for more louder than before. She is yelling, that rich sweet honey-like voice begging me to go harder; begging me to go faster. "I'm close." I pant out. She nods in understanding, looking at me with glazed eyes before closing them in bliss again. With a loud moan on my part, and a scream on hers, I shoot my load into her, and she slumps against my shoulder tiredly. I move us away from the wall before I set us on the floor carefully. I lie on my back, and she rests her head against my arm. I can feel my hair sticking to my face and my body covered in sweat. I look at Dara and wonder if my hair is as insane looking as hers.

Looking up at the sky, I see the purple of the night sky with the golden stars and silver moon. As I turn my head, I see that she is fast asleep curled into my side. Slowly and carefully I pull her off of me and stand up. I pull the sky blue shirt over my head, not really caring that it's backwards, and tug the pants on. I fumble with the boots, but manage it nonetheless.

Leaving the way I saw she led me, I make my way to the tavern I am staying at for the night. Sluggishly, I head up to my room and undress again. I step into bathtub that I had filled while I was gone, and clean myself off. Not minding the cold, I allow myself to relax in the clean water as I soil it with my dirty grime-covered skin. It is Savine, the hottest season of the year. I begin to scrub hard to get all the sweat, dirt and bodily fluids off of me with the soap bar, and make sure to run it through my hair as well. Meanwhile, I ponder what the barmaid told me. _Forget about your siblings, and take care of yourself. _Can I really do that? I just want to make sure they are safe, at the bare minimum alive. I rinse myself off before stepping out of the poor tub. Not bothering to dry off, I collapse onto my bed and pass out from the exhausting events that occurred to me both mentally and physically.

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><p>Author's Notes: Okay, so this is Cid's version of the events in the Tragedy's Song of Hope and Suffering. So this is, like Scars, Cid and Shera. I am really sorry for those who are looking for my Scars stories updates, but I don't know what to write, and I have more inspiration for this considering this is more fantasy. Also, as a hint, there are only eight months, and each season has two months. Overall I actually managed to have a total of 365 days.<p>

Katie's Comments: "She is a beautiful woman, but I didn't come here to flirt. She has cherry red locks coiled around each other hanging over her shoulder, and ending at her bosom." -Why did it say she didn't come here to flirt? -He. -Oh, _he?_

"She lets another giggle loose as she takes a clean rag out from behind the counter and begins cleaning off the surface where the last drunk man sat." -She's like Serah! -Serah? -Yeah, the way she's so cheerful and peppy! Like a cheerleader!

"No need to worry, you are a completely average man. A real average Joe." She teases me, and I'm not offended. I am about to respond-" -Are you even writing any of this down? -Oh! -Are you kidding me? I said so much!

"I am about to respond when the sound of retching occurs behind me, and I see a man doubled over spilling his stomach contents on the floor." -Gross... You didn't write that down. (I gasp) You are really failing at this. Might as well throw me off a cliff and leave me.

"Hilgae is a little run-down, but overall fairly nice. The buildings are small and wooden, the streets are just sand, and the grass appears to be dying." -It's like those western movies where the two cowboy sherifs are having gun wars with the dramatic looking-through-the-hats bit and saying 'this town aint big enough fer the two of us."

"I told you ten minutes. It's not chivalrous to keep a lady waiting." -She want him back. You don't have to write that down. -Are you kidding me!

"The swaying of her hips attracts my attention to her ass, and I can not look away." -Wait, did he curse (I don't curse so she is confused) -Yes. -Bootox. It's a fun word to say.

"I pick up my pace to meet her gait just as she stops in front of a gate." (I was laughing at the rhyme) -'Cause she likes to hate!

"...like a cat in heat" -Cat and mouse.

"...working the bulge in her palm back and forth." -Oh that sporting goods.

"Dara gets down on her knees, holding the base of my appendage tightly before bringing her mouth close enough to it that her hot breath ghosts over me, making it twitch in arousal. Painfully slow, she drags her tongue on the underside, along a big vein before taking the tip into her mouth." -Okay that sounds really gross. -I know, right? -Especially when the juices spill out (She says in a weird voice)

"I am panting now, and when I look down at her and she looks up at me, and we make eye contact, she swallows and licks her lips." -She's being porn.


	2. Seashells and Sunsets

_**Speechless**_

_Last night when we were alone_

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><p><strong>The 29th of Aziza 0038<strong>

The sun sets over the ocean, casting an orange light on its gleaming surface. The golden sand beneath me sifts as I shift my body, crawling across the grainy crystals. A pink seashell rests just beyond me reach as I try to extend my arm, hand, fingers, but nothing is enough to grab the conch without getting myself wet. I see in the distance a small wave approaching, but approaching nonetheless; if I don't act soon the shell will be washed away. Quickly I shed my gray-green button-up shirt and toss it behind me. Now that my upper body is clad in only a golden bikini top, I crawl the extra few inches until my fingers graze the cool smooth exterior of my treasure. Grabbing onto one of the spokes, I pull the shell to my body and quickly back away, sliding my butt against the sand to get away from the crashing wave. Grabbing my shirt and slinging it over my shoulder, I back up a little bit more before I find my notes.

Observing the shell requires I record the texture, the color, the measurements, and what part of the Fazel's Beach I found it on. But once I am done writing down all of the notes, I put the clipboard down at my side. Childishly I raise the mouth of the conch to my ear and listen intently. I can hear the echo, the essence of the ocean it was raised in: the slow movement of water, the crashing of waves, and if I really was a child, the call of a mermaid. I place the shell in the brown leather bag at my feet with the rest of my findings: a bunch of other types of shells, rocks, and some sea glass.

Gazing back at the water, I allow myself a few minutes of peace before I pull my shirt back on, roll my sleeves to my elbows, and button up my shirt, leaving the top three undone. Standing up I wipe the sand off of my butt before heading back to the grassy land. Walking back to my homeland, Drase, should only take about thirty minutes, but I don't want to be caught out after darkness hits. I am already pushing my time with my studies, I'll have to go home and reheat the dinner my mom made.

The thought of food gets my stomach to start rumbling, imitating the sounds I am almost positive a dying whale might make. I am mortified before realizing that no one else is around to hear it, as not many people go to Fazel's Beach, which would be weird considering it is Savine, but not many people live in Drase. Drase is a small town off the coast of the beach, with the closest town being Carasonia, which would be about an hours walk away. Not many people live in Drase, and those that do hardly witness anything; Drase is peaceful and safe. Some other cities have even gone as far as to say Drase is sheltered, but I do not believe that.

Drase is neutral to both the Light and the Dark Realm; having no direct affiliations with the Children of Light or the Seekers of Darkness, but remaining lawful to both sides. It is for this reason that we have not been Purged yet. However, not taking a side is taking it's toll on the town. The Light Realm look to us and the other neutral towns for aid, and the Dark Realm wishes to conquer us.

I leave the beach as the sun continues to lower behind me. The contents in my satchel rattle against my thigh. My latest scientific endeavor, studying seashells, proves to be child's play for me, as it is merely collection, observation, and recording of details, but it gives me something to keep busy with. I have even gathered some observations on the local fish, insects, shellfish, and birds that live on the beach to pass even more time. I am considering taking blood samples from the wildlife, samples of the water, and the genetic structure of each creature; but I haven't gotten that far yet.

My light brown boots press softly against the green grass as I enter the meadow. Flowers of different types and colors spread out across the land, and bees and bunnies laze comfortably under the blood red sun. A few dart past my feet as I step to close to them, chasing each other and unknowingly creating an open passageway in the direction I want to go. Bees buzz happily by my ears, content will the laziness of the Savine day. Already I begin to formulate a plan in which I could use these happy meadow-dwellers in my next experiment. Perhaps on the plants around here, and which are the preferred types.

I am about ten minutes from Drase now, seeing familiar landmarks that mark Drase's territory. This comes as a shock to me as I did not realize how deep in thought I was to not realize I have been walking for about twenty minutes now. Suddenly a pressure is applied to my back as I am pushed forward. I fall to the ground, purposefully landing on my right hip so I don't break any of the shells I have collected on my left hip. I look up only to be met with the sight of a bald man wearing dark sunglasses so I purposefully don't see his eyes. Before I can make out any other detail my glasses are snatched off of my face and tossed to the side.

"Hey!" I shout at the now blurry image of the man that I can only vaguely make out, my vision becoming even worse as the darkness in the sky approaches, "I need those!" The man says nothing, and me not being able to see gives me no knowledge to whether or not he even acknowledged I said anything. "I said I-"

"I heard what you said, miss. I need you to come with me." His voice is deep and monotone, and I begin to wonder what side he is on; the Seekers of Darkness, or the Neutrals. It's obvious that this man is no Child of Light.

"Like hell I will!" I shout, sitting up and blindly feeling around for my glasses, but my fingertips are only met with the soft blades of Savine grass. _I need to get out of_ _here. But how will I do it? I need a distraction._ My fingers meet the cold, smooth plastic of the frames; I drag them to my right side, while my left hand slowly, so it doesn't catch his attention, digs through the leather bag. Careful fingers grasp the sides of a beautiful, polished onyx colored stone I found at the beach, sliding over the surface as I wait for the right moment. They twitch irritably as I continue to caress the rock between the appendages. "I'm not going anywhere!"

"If you don't come quietly, I am authorized to use force. They didn't tell me to bring you back unharmed, but they would appreciate it if you were at the very least alive." He, from what I see, steps closer to me, which causes me to scoot back a little on my butt, similar to what I did on the beach. I have to escape; it's either now or never. From the looks of it, the man would be able to overpower me for sure, and even though I might get a head start, he would probably catch up to me anyway. Slowly I raise my self to my feet, slipping my glasses into my right hand while still clutching the cold, hard fragment in my left. "Hey, I never said you could stand!"

As fast as I can with as much force as I can muster with my off-hand, I throw the rock, aiming at his face. Without seeing if I hit, I bolt in the direction I was originally walking, away from the man. I slip the brown glasses onto my face, and run faster than I ever have before. I don't hear anything behind me, and I pray that he is not chasing me. Looking back over my shoulder as I continue to run, I see that he is, in fact, not following me. Still, I do not stall. I run the rest of the way home, shoving the door open so hard that it slams against the wall. I push the door harshly back to a close behind me, locking the locks in the process. Finally I allow myself to collapse as I haven't run that fast and far ever, and naturally I am tired.

"Shera?" I hear the soft voice of my adoptive mother Meaghan, as she rounds the corner looking distressed. Her brown hair is tied in a tangled heap on top of her head, exposing her elegant brown eyes. She wears a simple green summer dress with an apron over her lower midriff. She looks at me with surprise at the state I am in, her maternal senses already assuming the worse, which is probably not far off from what actually happened. "Why are you slamming doors, dear?"

"A bald man, who I have reason to suspect is from the Dark Realm, demanded I come with him, or else he would use force! So I took a rock I took as a sample from the beach and chucked it at his face as best as I could because I was blinded-"

"-What do you mean 'blinded?'" My mom interrupts, concern heavily laced in her voice.

"Mom, can I finish?" I respond irritated at being interrupted.

"Sorry, honey. Continue."

"Thank you. Anyway... Where was I? Oh yeah, the man took off my glasses, to answer your question, and after I threw the rock, I ran as fast as I could. And here I am." I finish with a shrug of my shoulder as if what just happened normally happens.

"Why are you so calm about this?" She asks, pressing her palm to my forehead before resting it on my cheek. Eyes squint together in concentration as she tries to find the smallest possible hint of an ailment, before giving up and wringing her hands together, fisting through her white apron.

I only shrug my shoulders again as if the answer is obvious. "Well, mom. True, I've never witnessed it, but you hear stories, you know? Stories of children getting hunted down and Purged. The Dark Realm keeps it's tabs about the significant people in the world; the one's they decide if they should keep or kill. With me being a scientist, or close to becoming an official one, I wouldn't be surprised if _I'm _on their list. Maybe their Oracles saw me invent something that they find potentially dangerous or useful. That would be cool though."

"What do you mean that sounds 'cool?'" My mother sighs in defeat, dropping one hand to the side while bringing the other up to rest in her up-do.

I shrug my shoulders for the third and last time, "It means I'm a success." I give her a smile, to which she responds with a weak version of her own. She exhales slowly, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them, new water present at the base.

"Just... be careful." She manages out with a shaky breath.

"I will, don't worry." I try to calm her nerves, but I know that whatever I do is minute in settling her.

"I will always worry, it's my job as a mother." She smiles again, this time more sad, as the corners of her mouth twitch downwards every so often. A new question worms it's way into her mind, I can see it in her eyes. "When is the next time you are leaving again?"

"Haven't thought of that yet. Probably as soon as tomorrow."

"So soon? You just suffered a traumatic experience."

"Yeah, but I can't let that get in the way of my studies." I explain casually. I see the doubt in her eyes, but she knows that this is an argument she can and will not win. Instead, she wraps an arm around me and kisses my forehead. She is doing this for me, but I don't need it. I am doing this for her, because I know she needs it. True, I was scared at first, but I can't let this get in the way of science; that would be wrong.

"Okay," she says after a moment of quiet, "but bring that Lucas boy with you to protect you." Lucas is a nice boy, I don't have anything against him, in fact he is handsome, charming and dashing. He has red hair and blue eyes that sparkle, and a smile that invites everyone in. The only problem is, my parents have been set on me marrying him since I could toddle and we had our first play-date together. It is official on everything except paper, which is the only way I will even consider it to be real. It is only a flex arrangement set up by our parents. He doesn't think of me that way, and I consider myself devoted to science. He is a good friend, though. Too bad that is all we are ever going to be.

"Okay." She kisses my forehead again before pulling away.

"Your dinner is on the table." My mom says before standing up and walking away, most likely to get a rag to dry her eyes with. I sit still for a minute listening to my mother softly cry in the next room over. My father Tobias is not home yet, but will probably get the story from my mother. Meaning that I will have to have this same talk with him tomorrow. I think back to the man in the meadow, and begin to come up with reasons as to why he would stop chasing me, if he even attempted to catch me at all.

_My rock knocked him out._

_It was too dark for him to follow me._

_He never actually wanted to follow me._

_He just wanted to talk._

_Is this really all that my life has to offer me?_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>So this is Shera's chapter. Now this story is mainly is Shera's point of view with the exception of a few chapters that will be in Cid's if the story calls for it. I am mainly going to be focusing on _Speechless _now to get this done, and move on to the next stories. I'll continue _Scars _later, but not now. I don't have anything to say for that, and I like the storyline of _Tragedies Song of Hope and Suffering _better, so.

Katie's Comments: She didn't have much to say because she wasn't listening.

"The sun sets over the ocean..." -My gosh.

"...sliding my butt..." -Buttocks.

"Standing up I wipe the sand off of my butt before heading back to the grassy land." -Butt. You use butt a lot. 'Cause I'm all about the bass, 'bout the bass, no treble.


	3. The Dead Section

_**Speechless**_

_You threw your hands up_

* * *

><p><strong>The 30th of Aziza 0038<strong>

I am woken from my rest when the curtains holding back the sun are drawn and the bright rays of light infiltrate my room. I groan in annoyance as some of the light burns my closed eyes, and I toss and turn before pulling the covers over my head and bury my face further my pillow. I am just about to go to sleep when the song-like voice of my mother invades my ears.

"Shera, it's time to wake up. I wanted to know if you could help me with breakfast." Darn, I overslept. Usually I am the first to wake up in my house, waking my family up and eating breakfast together before I have to leave. I groan, pressing my hands against my ears while keeping my eyes squeezed shut.

"Make it stop." I whine, further burying myself in the cocoon I built, fully intent on shutting out the rest of the world. However, this does not go as planned as my mother pulls back the sheets revealing my bed head.

"Come now, Shera. You need to get ready. If you still plan on going out today you need a breakfast. Not to mention your father and I think it would be a good idea to bring Lucas with you. It would be a great chance to bond with him." The hope in her voice makes me feel guilty, but I do not wish to marry anyone and that isn't her fault. But she has always wanted grandchildren, especially if they're related to Lucas since she and his mother are very close. "Shera, get up now please. It'll be fun." I grumble my acceptance and listen as the door closes behind my mother when she leaves. Slowly I sit up and glare at the blaring sun when it hurts my eyes.

I roll off of my small bed onto the floor; shifting my weight back and forth I roll on the balls of my feet trying to acquire some sort of balance. I slip out of my nightdress by shrugging the thin straps off of my shoulder, and toss it into the basket at the far corner of my room. I stumble forward to my dresser, feeling the hot Savine air on my bare skin, relaxing my muscles, but causing me discomfort. I prefer a temperate temperature to an extremity such as hot and cold.

I grope around the desk until my hand grazes the cool plastic of my glasses, and I slip the thick brown frames on my face finally allowing me to see. I stare out the window for a second; enjoying my eyesight before I am forced to tear my eyes away from the view I have of the center of town in favor of continuing to dress myself. I find a red tunic and wear some black cloth knee-length shorts. I tie a piece of brown ribbon around my waist so that the tunic is not loose around my body. Brushing through my butt length hair proves to be a bit of a struggle since I must have been thrashing around throughout the night, but I manage to make it silky smooth and even tie it up into a loose bun. Quickly I brush my teeth and throw on some brown sandals before leaving my room and heading to the small kitchen my mother is working at.

We have been having lessons lately with cooking. She says she wants to spend more time with me and that's it, but I know it's just that I really stink at cooking. Even now as I am making eggs, she notices that I was just about to add too much of the goat milk she bought recently. She stops me again when I have nearly turned the eggs into charcoal, and while she says it's okay and that it will come to me in time, I just get frustrated at myself, and whoever made cooking so hard.

"I don't get it!" I scream at the blackened bits of what used to be food. It was more edible raw, for goddess' sake! "You always say this is easy, but I don't get it! 'It will come to you in time, sweetheart!' 'Just you wait!' Well I am tired of waiting!" She doesn't respond at first, just glares at me for having raised my voice, and I instantly apologize with a quiet sorry mumbled under my breath, but I know she heard me anyway.

"You don't get it, because you're not thinking like you." I raise my eyebrow quizzically at the most mentally challenging thing she has ever said to me. How could I think as anything but myself? I can't think someone else's thoughts; as soon as I think them they are mine. "You are doing what I am doing, well trying at least, but the reason you keep messing up is because you aren't thinking it through, am I right?"

"Mother, I am not entirely sure I am following you." She casts me an exasperated look before staring down at the black food. I see her touch one of the once yellow pieces and I see the tiny piece flake apart one by one, slowly turning into dust.

"You are a scientist, dear. I am not sure where you got it from, certainly not us, but maybe your real parents? I mean, come on, you are a brilliant girl. You figured it out yourself you were adopted when you were seven. Seven! You had proof and everything. DNA tests, the adoption records we had hidden in a drawer. You are good at putting one and one together. Cooking can be like that. You just have to be a chemist in the kitchen."

Her explanation makes so much sense and I am beginning to wonder why I haven't thought of it sooner. "Oh." Is all I say as I realize this whole time I have been over calculating everything when really it is a skill that could come naturally to me if I think about it in the ways of science.

"Now go wash up, Shera. I am going to get your father from the other room." I nod and watch as she walks out before heading to the well at the side of my house. I attach the bucket to the hook and supervise its descent before reeling it back up. I take the wooden carrier off the hook, now considerably heavier as it is filled with water, and bring it back in; Mother and Father might want some to drink with breakfast to wash down the eggs. I set the bucket down on the table once I am inside and dip three cups into the basin, before dipping a clean rag into the clear liquid to wash my hands and face with.

By the time I sit down at the table, my mother and father are already there, waiting for me to sit down and eat with them. As soon as I sit down they begin to eat, and I follow suit by forcing the cold rock hard eggs down my throat followed by the cool liquid savior I had just fetched.

"So, dear. I hear you want to go out again today?" My father looks at my face with those brilliant green eyes of his. His eyes hold hope that I will shake my head no, say I wish to stay home and marry Lucas while living a peaceful life in Drase with many children and the promise to visit often. Sadly for him, that's not what I want.

"Yeah, I have more research I need to do. I think something about the fish could be worth recording." Recently I have noticed that more fish are appearing to have a rainbow tint to their scales. There is also a section of the beach where nothing turns up. No fish, no rocks, no seashells, nothing. My brown eyes pick up from my plate to see the disappointed look on my poor aged father's face, and then drops quickly down to my plate again.

"Your mother and I were talking last night," _Oh, not this, _"and we think it would be a good idea if not only did you bring Lucas with you, but also one of the horses." What he said wasn't the worst I was expecting, but I don't know what to do with a horse while I am down there. There isn't any drinkable water nearby, and I can't just let it roam free either. Regardless, I nod my head in understanding managing to shake a few strands loose from their captivity. They seem pleased by this, and begin talking amiably while I just scarf down the rest of my food and place my plate on the counter for my mother to wash.

I get my stuff together, emptying my bag of yesterday's contents, filling a water skin, and then placing my satchel over my shoulder. I give my poor mother and father a kiss on their cheeks before I head out the door to fetch my horse. Cow was named after my ever-observant nine-year-old eye when the mare and stallion belonging to my mother and father gave birth to a foal with the pattern of a cow on it. I regret the name I gave the poor horse, but it is too late to change it as I long ago taught it it's name as well as a few other tricks as an experiment to see how well they understand human language. Turns out they understand pretty well.

I finish attaching the heavy saddle to the horse's back as it waits there patiently while I hop on myself. With a single word "onward" the horse shifts forward slowly until breaking into a trot as I lead it to the center of town where I know Lucas will be. I spot his red hair over anything else. His hair isn't bright, nor vibrant, but it has always been something I can rely on finding even if he was stuck in the middle of a crowd. Sitting on the fountain, surrounded by twelve beautiful women all fawning over him, sits my best friend and fiancé. His blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight like they always do, but seem bored until I approach, and then he stares up at me with excitement written on his face and an expression that clearly reads _please save me._

I laugh a little to myself before asking the ladies if I could borrow him. They all glare at me with hatred clear as day with a hint of jealousy. It is no secret that Lucas and I are engaged, and it is also no secret that neither of us intends to break it. We want to make our families happy, and honestly a life with Lucas would not be bad. His fan club will find someone else, someone who would actually be interested in them.

As quickly as he can, the red head jumps onto the back of Cow in position behind me before wrapping his arms around my waist. This causes the girls to start mumbling rude comments about me that I couldn't care less about. "Onward" I whisper and the three of us make our way to Lucas' house so we can fetch his horse, Blue.

Blue is a beautiful black mare whose coat shines at any point in the day. Where my horse has brown eyes like a cow, Blue has these crystalline blue eyes that has nothing to do with her name. I see Cow's ears rotate back and forth in anticipation at seeing Blue. Lucas and I often go riding together, and then leave our horses to graze on the fields together, so the mares are quite fond of each other.

We reach Lucas' small stone house, similar in structure to mine, and he quickly runs off to get Blue. I see his mother Mary Beth taking care of her daughters Sara and Nelly by keeping a close eye on them as they run around chasing each other across the fields in front of their house. Mary Beth raises a hand to me before calling out to me.

"Hello, Shera dear! Lucas isn't home at the moment." Her red curly hair is graying prematurely; I can see it from here. The stress of being a single mother takes a toll on her, having to raise three kids on her own for nearly five years now. I command Cow to walk closer to where she stands so we don't have to keep yelling across the field. I see the wrinkles that indent her porcelain skin and I begin to wonder if I will age like she did.

"Oh, I know, Ms. Haber. Lucas and I came back to retrieve Blue. We plan on going down to the beach if you don't have a problem with that." She gives me a large smile before babbling her confirmation. _Of course she does not have a problem with it. _She looks like a child who saw snow for the first time the way her face lights up, and her features look younger. We continue to chat for a while before I feel a hand press against the small of my back.

"Ready to go, Sher?" I nod my head, wave goodbye to Ms. Haber and we're off.

* * *

><p>I sit down on the beach, alternating between writing notes and watching the sunset. Lucas proved to be a big help like he always is. He is still walking around, collecting shells and rocks for my observation. He always tells me where he received the fragments so I can write that down as part of the data. While he did collection, I studied the certain part of the beach that has no life. The dead section, as Lucas dubbed it, still had nothing to offer.<p>

I hear huffing beside me as I see an out of breathe Lucas standing beside me at my position away from the water, holding out a handful of shells.

"I found these on the western end." He says with a large smile on his face, making him look like a child. I smile back my thanks before reaching my hand out to collect the shells. He dips his hands into mine; releasing the shells before wrapping his hands around mine to softly close my palms around the pieces.

"You can take a break if you want. You gave me plenty of shells today that I'd say I am done with my research here." He gives me an affectionate smile before collapsing down next to me, laying his head against the grainy sand. Lucas lets out a low whistle and a hum of approval before turning his head to face me.

"Beautiful view." He states.

"I know." I answer completely tranquil.

"And I'm not just talking about the sunset." He throws a wink in my direction and laughs when I feel my face heat up.

"Idiot." I bite, but that only causes him to laugh harder, drawing tears from his crystal blue eyes.

"S-sorry!" He gasps out, managing to speak between fits of laughter. "But you should've seen the look on y-y-your face!"

"I have a feeling I don't want to." I deadpan, turning away from him, aware that I am still blushing furiously. I watch the sunset while listening to the wave crashing on shore, and the guffawing idiot choking on his own breath next to me. Only one brings me true comfort, and it isn't the one involving the water.

"So, Shera." My redheaded companion starts after a while of peaceful, comfortable silence.

"Lucas." I turn to him, both of us now lying on out backs on the cool sand, staring into each other's eyes.

"Will you tell me your real name yet?"

I turn my head back to face the sky instead of him. I don't want to answer that question. I don't like keeping secrets from him, but the name I go by is supposed to protect me. "Shera," he whines, leaning on an elbow to peer at my face again, "we are going to be married in a matter of weeks. Please, I just want to know what to call my wife."

"Call her Shera." I state, and he exhales a deep sigh before giving up and quiet starts again. _Ah yes, the wedding. How could I have forgotten it is so soon?_

We sit in the comfort of each other's presence for a little while longer before I decide we should get going. He only nods his head before standing up from the sand and offers out his two hands to help me up. I accept and he pulls me to my feet, but miscalculates my weight as I come crashing against his chest, and he wraps his arms around my waist to secure me. I'm aware of my head on his chest, listening to his thudding heartbeat, soft and lulling me into a peaceful state. His aroma envelops around me and I do not mind, in fact he smells pretty good. _Like apples and cinnamon_.

"You okay, Shera?" He asks slowly, as if afraid I will be mad at his clumsiness. Of course I am not mad since it wasn't entirely his fault.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I claim, pulling myself out of the strong arms of my best friend who provides me with so much comfort and security I feel like he is my pillow I can fall back on and always be safe. "Let's go." He takes my hand in his like we often do and walk over to where we left the horses grazing in the meadow.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>Okay, chapter three done! I'm happy because I finally know where this story is going, so stay with me because it is going to get much better. I don't remember if I said this already, and I am too lazy to check, but this will mostly be in Shera's point of view except if I feel the need to change it. I am not entirely sure what chapter Cid and Shera will meet in. It could be in chapter five or six, or could be in chapter ten. No idea, I will have to see. The estimate will become clearer in time. Katie's Comments won't be now, because I have a headache and she's downstairs. I will update with her later.

**khparisi: **Wow, really? Okay, no, rude. You cannot use my fan fiction to increase your popularity! That's mean. You're not even that funny. I help you with a lot of your _Eternal._ It's. So. Short. Too. And nonsensical! Stop using me! What kind of sister are you? P.S. Mock anger.


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